Pop just sat there, an ear-to-ear grin on his face. And then he did the strangest thing. He winked at me.
As if he was proud of me, too.
As if I’d just scored my own home run.
* * *
“She a spirited little thing, isn’t she?” Momma said, taking a seat next to me on the concrete stairs in the backyard. Ryla had joined Max and me after he’d gotten the hang of catch. He could actually have a good arm if he stuck with it.
Now, they were playing hide and seek with the baseball; Ryla reassured me twice she wouldn’t throw the ball at Max.
I grinned. “That’s one word for it.”
“She asked me if I was alive when the dinosaurs were living.”
I barked out a laugh. “Welcome to Ryla. What you see is what you get.”
She chuckled. “Oh, but that’s girls for you. Sweet as sugar one minute, sassy as all get out the next. And Max—so polite! I barely got any time with him. You’ll have to bring them over again soon.”
“Just wait. I give it five minutes before someone is hurt or crying.”
“Well, that’s parenting.”
“So I’m coming to find out.” We were quiet for a few minutes. It was Ryla’s turn to hide, and after trying to scale a too-tall tree, she was squatting behind a bush.
My mother broke the silence. “Ryla implied you’ve been living with them, too. Is there a reason you didn’t tell us about your job?”
I let out a long breath, shifting toward her. She appeared surprisingly calm, almost resigned. Like being around Ryla and Max, even in this short amount of time, had softened her.
“Not really. It happened fast, I guess. And if I’m being honest, I didn’t want to feel like I was holding you back.”
“Holding us back?” she asked with wide eyes.
“If you want to move to Florida, move to Florida. If y’all want to sell the house, sell the house! I’m not reliant on you. I pay rent, I help you and Pop around here plenty. And you know what? I’m happy to do it. But I’m not a child. And to be treated like I’m one just ’cause I don’t have a career like Kent or Sarah, I guess . . .” I took a deep breath in and let it out. “Well, I guess I just didn’t want to hear it anymore.”
I hadn’t realized how much keeping something from them was weighing on me, until I felt it leave my chest. It wasn’t like me to keep something from them. Secrets poison everything, good intentions or not. And glancing at Momma, seeing sorrow in her features, I knew she felt that too.
“I’m sorry, Momma.” I put my arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze.
Her face turned wistful. “No, don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry. I know I need to stop bothering you about college. I’ve already heard an earful from Sarah and your daddy the other week. It was somehow easier when you were young. My role was more defined. And I worry. I worry about your daddy. I worry about you. I worry about Sarah and Kent plenty, too.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m doing fine.”
She chucked my chin. “A parent will always worry about their child. No matter how old they are.”
I brought my arm out from behind her, leaning my elbows on my knees, watching Ryla giggle as Max pretended not to see her. He was such a good kid. I guess I understood where she was coming from. Over this past week, I’d been filled with more worry than I’d ever recalled. Max had such an uphill battle to climb. Middle school. High school.
Would I still be with them when he was that age? What if I wasn’t there, would he be alright?
And then, a worse thought. What ifsomeone elsewas there, taking my place?
Instant jealousy filled me at the thought of another man in my place. I thought about Max graduating from eighth grade, then getting his driver’s license. How it’d feel to see another man in his life, hugging him, teaching him the rules of the road. What if he wasn’t patient? Or kind? My stomach started to cramp. And Ryla, she’s had the same wiggly tooth all summer. What if I wasn’t there when she finally lost it? When she was the lead in the school play, I wanted to be in the front row. I didn’t want to sit next to the man who got to spend the rest of his life with Polly and the kids.
I wanted to be the man that spent the rest of his life with them.
It suddenly felt like time was speeding up; it’d already been both the longest and shortest week and a half of my life. I already considered them, Polly and the kids, my home. It was way too soon to tell Polly any of this, especially based on our conversation yesterday. But . . . what if I kept waiting for her to feel the same, but she never did?
“You’re wonderful with them,” my momma said, interrupting my thoughts. “You should bring their momma around the next time. We’d love to meet her. Ryla couldn’t stop talking about her, she just kept saying ‘my mom this’ and ‘my mom that’. What was her name again?”
